The Road Home
by PocketHero
Summary: A heavily requested SEQUEL/EPILOGUE to 'POST SCRIPT' - I would recommend you read 'Post Script' first, but it is not required. Alfred has waited four years to return to his angsty artist sweetheart Arthur... but fate has other plans. The Road Home is full of obstacles. [RATED M for USUK] Tragic and romantic story for those who enjoy heartache and sweet USUK. Enjoy the sweet pain :)
1. Part 1

_'POST SCRIPT' Sequel/Epilogue_

_USUK _

* * *

_The Road Home_

_Part 1_

* * *

**Mr Arthur Kirkland**

**63 Gower Street, London**

**United Kingdom**

**June 20****th****,1943**

_Dear Arthur._

_I'm coming home._

_I'm finally coming home._

_Peter and I are coming home. Our names were on the list that was released of those who have served the longest. We're coming home._

_I'm packing my bags right this second! Not that there's much to pack, but I'm finally leaving this hell hole! _

_I'm leaving tomorrow in a convoy and we will arrive in France about a month and a half from then! I'll be home in a few months Arthur! You don't have to worry anymore! _

_Better start boiling that kettle sweetheart! _

_I love you so god damn much!_

_Love love love Alfred!_

_P.S I LOVE YOU!_

* * *

I closed my eyes.

I exhaled.

It felt… _good_.

I had showered for the first time in months.

No more scratching at lice bitten skin with filthy nails and bloodied fingertips. No more shaving with soft daggers and a slither of soap.  
No more squinting through shattered lenses… at a fading face.  
No more waiting.

Yes… my waiting was over. At last.

I ran my fingers over the black and white photograph; riddled with white veins and cracks, discolouration on the face of an angel.

This one photograph of him was all I had to remind myself of his face for the past four years; in my mind his face was composed of ink and paper, stained at the edges with blood… finger prints smudged along his neck, softening the harsh lines and shadows of his jawline. Twinkling eyes watching me stare into the solitary abyss of my cabin; inhaling the salty air as it rose and fell against the boat, lolling me back home. The soft creaks of the ship moaning above the silence; slicing through the empty room like a razor, slicing through my loud thoughts… which were screaming. Silence had never been so loud.

My chest juddered as I released a shaky breath beneath his petrifying stare. His eyes flicked quickly down to my lips which looked like cold emeralds buried on a blanket of snow; he quivered in my hands, and for that instant I knew exactly what he wanted and I knew exactly how to satisfy his craving. He nervously leant forward; feeling the tingle of his presence reach for mine, it were as if his body wouldn't let him any closer… my head was screaming. I nudged in. An explosion. It felt like all the happiness in the universe rushed to my chest and glittered under my skin. It felt like one million flowers were blooming and dappling their miasmic spectrum of colours in my head. His lips tasted of cool peppermint and earl grey… a winters morning defined in the lips of my once dream lover. There it was. I slammed a hand against the window and the other wrapped around his skull bruising his gorgeous addictive taste against me.

I felt warmth surround me like water. It submerged me with a soothing caress. It was calming to me and I felt myself floating loosely. Extending my arms and legs outwards to feel more of the warmth, my right arm nudged something hard. It then occurred to me that I was not dreaming. I opened my heavy eyes further I could see the blurred outlines of my sleeping quarters. But when I moved my right arm once more into the thing I felt before I realised. I shot my eyes open and took a huge gasp; my lungs burnt as I inhaled large gulp of seawater, and I caught a flash of red before a sudden shockwave quelled my flailing limbs by throwing me against the steel wall. There was a piercing shriek of searing pain… before fuzzy darkness numbed my senses. My world faded into black… and blue.

My arms floated freely; as if I were a cloud, unconfined… leisurely… _liberated._

A weight had been lifted off my chest; like a hand had earlier grasped my torso and squeezed, was now letting go.

I found some peace in the colour blue. The sound of running water; fresh water from a river, not blood from a Nazi stumbling out into his death during a shower of bullets. Crisp clean water. Something I had been deprived of for the past four years… but it wasn't the only thing I was deprived of.

There is some strange serenity in the colour blue.

When I opened my eyes all I saw was blue. It was…terrifying. My heart began to writhe and scream along with my lungs which scratched at the inside wall of my chest; like some caged animal gnashing its teeth and shrieking for freedom, something I could not offer it.

My eyes grated against the liquid as I squinted into the navy darkness, my glasses tickled my nose as they drifted away; one final caress before accepting conquest. There were blotches in my vision and they became specs as I floated down further and further away from the light shining down on me… I was getting further away from heaven. I was going to hell.

I always had a feeling I was going to hell. I was a bad person really. Narcissistic, hardy, humble and a general asshole really.

I was a promise breaker too.

But wait a moment. What was my name again?

I seemed to have forgotten.

Why was I here, where did I live, did I have a home? What the hell was going on!?

Then they came. The tears flowed like the water I bathed in. I was stunned. The water was trickling from my eyes and warming my white skin. There was blue… but I didn't want blue. A feeling rose in my chest. And all of a sudden I yearned as no one had yearned before… I don't know why… or what for. But all of a sudden I knew what I wanted.

I wanted green.

I had always wanted green.

I needed the colour green.

Since the beginning I had wanted the colour green to surround me like this blue was doing now; filling me with its hue.

Yes that's right. Green. But why was this so important to me? Did something happen? Had I forgotten something more important than my name?

I asked myself: Where did I come from… after a few moment of thinking I remembered, America! But the clothes I wore weren't American… they were British.

Then I remembered. I lived in London. I went to school there earlier in my life… and University too! I went to University in London! Now… what did I study… Physical Education I think, Mathematics too I'm sure… Biology! Yes! I remember that! My first Biology class!

I remember I walked into the lecture hall the first day of my four year Physical Education course at London University, I was stunned. All at once I lost my breath... and holy crap I was scared to death. It wasn't like me. It wasn't like little old self-obsessed me to tremble in the sight of someone that wasn't my own reflection.

Him… what was his name…

His head shot up from the table and scoped the area dreamily; still waking up from a deep sleep, he blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes like a little rabbit waking up from a nap. I inhaled sharply; he was so god damn cute, it had been like this for three and a half years… it was ridiculous to be so infatuated with a man for a start; but a man whose name I didn't know, a man who I had never made any remote form of contact with. He rubbed the back of his head and finally realized where he was, "Mister Kirkland, regardless of your perfect scores and straight A's in your courses… I will not tolerate students sleeping in my class!" He rubbed my eyes again and looked around at the sniggers and rolling eyeballs, "…when you're done waking up Arthur I would advise that you turn to page 394 in the text book which has become your pillow it seems… unless if course you have a wish to fail your Biology paper" He nodded reluctantly and flipped open the humongous rock of a book.

He rested his cheek in his hand and flicked hopelessly through the bollocks that claimed to be our ultimate form of composition; tiny ovalish shaped objects that swum around in our cytoplasm, it was boring as hell. He looked up at the black board decorated with white scrawl that appeared as a whole lump of curly lines arranged in squares that look like paragraphs, with the occasional crappy diagram that looked more like a splodge of porridge than a unicellular organism. The teachers nasally voice droned on like the engine of a tank. Suddenly he looked across the room at the other students who actually understood the curls on the wall. All students heads were down… apart from mine.

He stared at me. I remember the way he shrunk back into his chair when he caught me staring; I didn't notice myself doing it. He shivered at me through his large green eyes which glittered as they withdrew into his skull; in very likeness of a tiny little lizard peeping shyly from inside his abode afraid of the outer world, in fact this man's personality was in very likeness of a lizard itself. Quiet, quick, reserved, cautious and incredibly naïve. He acted as if he were condemned from society in a sense, and yet God has gifted him with the advantage of intelligence… in other words: He was a two years younger than me, and acted five years older than me. He was the big brained recluse of the Cultural Department; of course! So stereotypical of the Brits! He was on his last year of a Bachelor of Arts here and the semester would be ending in no more than two weeks… I still didn't know his name.

In the years I had seen his face lingering about the campus I had given it far too much thinking to utter a word to him. I tried so hard to acknowledge his existence. He was like a phantom to me. One minute there then he would have disappeared. I had only ever heard people refer to him as 'Arty' or 'Princess'; which I thought was some cruel pun on the fact that his complexion was so delicate and feminine… well… maybe it was just me. He was best known for knowing every girl in his dorm and mine, for some reason he never made a move on them!

The bell screamed and he uttered a sigh of relief as he tore his gaze away from mine and slammed his text book closed and swiftly sped out the classroom door with book under arm and bag over shoulder. I had only stood form the seat by the time he was long gone…

That's right. I remember now. I felt something for this man… something more than friendship. Now what was it… I can't remember…

Leaving the lecture hall and joining the masses in the great hallways of the Science campus was terrifying if you weren't assertive enough. Recently there had been a huge number of students enrolling for the all of the science courses and physical education courses… curious… because those enrolling in the Arts subjects had become less interested in the subject and moved to the sciences like chemistry or physics. I caught a glimpse of the man struggling to cut through the crowd and attempting to bash through the wall of bodies separating me from the stairs up to the cultural suites. Suddenly he looked confused and begun frantically looking around on the floor… perhaps he had misplaced something. Then all of an instant he was swept off his feet and flying for a split second before colliding with the cold stone floor. Dropping his text book which held a lot of papers; they scattered across the floor beneath black polished shoes and heeled feet, ripping and tearing… He scrambled on his stomach, flailing arms around in a futile attempt to rescue his papers. He kind of looked like a turtle; I thought to myself as I stood on the side of the hall and giggled, completely oblivious to the approaching gang of butch blonde boys. He was pushed to the ground again which knocked the text book out of his hands again, papers flying away like birds. Again. His head thwacked against the stone and he groaned, "what's this? Eyy! It's sleeping beauty all wide eyed and awake! Ahahah!" my friend Matthias was bullying my favourite student. Instantly I tried to push through the growing crowd of people.

"If you don't mind Matthias I have an important meeting to attend-" he pushed his foot into his chest harder.

"Oh now you don't. You're dancing with me now pretty boy!" He chuckled to himself. Matthias Kohler was an exchange student who took pride in taking advantage of the arts students; like Arty, he was the Vice Captain of the rugby team below me. The Captain. Like me he also had a nickname; only within his posse of foreigners, they called him 'The King'. If he was such a thing it would be a hideous monarchy which would abuse its subjects... much like that of The Kingdom Spades… that wasn't important. The other men in his group were only there to make him look more menacing in numbers; Lukas Bondvik was only terrifying because he didn't know the definition of happiness, his little brother Markus only tagged along to be with Lukas, Berwald hated everything about Matthias but hung around him to refrain his big brother's abusive tendencies… and to protect Tino. The five Nordic exchange students certainly stuck close together… sometimes for the worst. He gestured to Lukas who handed him my bag, "now what will we find in here today? Anything worth my trouble?" He began to flick through the notebooks and tear out the remaining papers.

"Would you care to give me back my books you bloody git!" Arty snapped. My heart jumped when Matthias kicked him in the face.

"Sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you through my shoe?" some other students had begun to gather around by this point and stop to watch and laugh, "why don't you go home and cry to your mama and papa little boy?" At that point I was furious, "oh yeah that's right… you can't…" he clicked his fingers and leant against his chest further, "they're not alive anymore aren't they?" He laughed manically and dropped his bag upside down on top of him; shaking all of his books on my face, then dropping his bag as the cherry on top. I wrenched open a space between the crowd; trying not to show my intense rage, so instead… I grinned.

"Matt!" Matthias squealed like a little pig. I emerged from the growing crowd; Matthias removed his foot from Arty's chest, he coughed wildly and sat up instantly. I looked down at him. Thank god he wasn't bruised or cut… but this wasn't the first time that he had been beat up by these guys. I pushed up my glasses which had slipped down my nose; I glared at Matthias with a stare colder than ice; a glare that could kill a thousand soldiers from frostbite. I crossed my arms across my chest, "what is this?" Matthias cowered beneath me. It felt good. I really _was _a hero.

"Why! He simply tripped and dropped all his books upon himself Cap'n! I was merely helping the poor fellow up!" I snorted sarcastically and raised a brow.

"With your foot?" Matt gulped and nodded. It appeared there was no choice. The Princess was injured and justice must be served. So I sighed and removed my glasses with one swift movement, "Well I suppose you leave me no choice" I pocketed my glasses and loosened my tie. Rolling up my sleeves I raised my fists to Matthias, "you're a liar and a bully. Now either come at me or get the hell out of my sight! Your choice" Matt shuddered and looked around at the large crowd of eye-whites. He looked down at Arty with a sneer. He turned away and gestured to his group. I exhaled sharply. I was so relieved I didn't have to fight him… I know I am strong. But he had his group with him. I could never beat five Nordic rugby players into the dirt all at once.

"Come on guys. I've got Rugby practise in ten minutes…" so I resumed a casual stance and slapped on my glasses again; accompanied by a grin.

"That you do! See you on the field soon!" The crowd groaned in disappointment and dispersed. Out of the corner of my eyes little Arty had already gathered as much paper as he could and shoved it messily into his bag. I knelt down and picked up his biology text book; a piece of paper fluttered out, I swept that off the floor too. What was this? Why was there so much loose paper about? I stared at the graphite scribbles on the paper.

I choked.

It was like staring into a mirror.

On this mirror my face was composed of graphite and paper, stained at the edges with tea… finger prints smudged along my neck, softening the harsh lines and shadows of my jawline. Watercolour eyes watching me stare into the hidden life of my secret admiration. It was incredible, "what's this?" I looked at Arty and showed him the sketch. His face drained of its colour; as if he were trying to hold back a scream, and went to snatch it from my grip. I pulled away and he missed, "ah ah… not until you tell me what it is!" I chuckled cheekily. Knowing somewhere in the deep dark abyss of his solitary soul… that he felt something for me too. It made my heart race.

He grumbled and snatched his Biology book from my other hand before standing and walking away. I stood and called after him as he headed to the stairs, "hey! I didn't even catch your name! What about a thank you?"

"Keep it" He carelessly called back. He swept up the stairs swiftly trying to cover his face until he was a spec disappearing round the corner.

I was frozen.

He spoke to me. He actually spoke to me. For the first time in my life he actually spoke to ME. My stomach decided it was time to flip in somersaults inside my belly as I basked in the memory of his presence. I held the paper close to my chest and looked down at it privately, "he… drew me…" I whispered to myself; running my fingers along the paint and pencil lines as if they were etched by Jesus, my personal Jesus. I folded the paper adroitly and carefully placed it into my pocket. Staring back up at the stairway that he disappeared I muttered to myself, "I have to see him again"

So what happened then… I went to rugby practise with Matthias and the other boys. That's right. Matthias was giving me hell about protecting Arty too… he was always an asshole.

"Oi! Cap'n!" Matthias jogged over to me as I peeled off my muddy shirt which clung to my chest like thin plastic. A bitter gust of wind clawed at my skin as I wrung out the shirt like a flannel. Ludwig took my shirt from me and handed me a woollen jersey to cover myself. Matthias slung his shirt over his shoulder and completely ignored the fact that mud was spattering across his rippling abs; as most describe them, but then again… Matt was a bigger show off than I.

"Matt! Put a shirt on you'll get sick before the game!" I called out pulling a navy sweater over my head. He shrugged and stretched his arms over his head.

"Ah well can't deprive the world a glimpse of my glorious physique now can I?" He grinned and gave me a sly sideways glance. I nudged him in the stomach and he curled over, "hey! Anyway… Al. Whatthe heckw as going on earlier?"

"I could ask you the same thing" he snorted and rested his arm over my shoulder; I recoiled a little, no one wants hot, sweaty Danish armpit near to your face after a rugby practise.

"Come on now Al… you know what I mean" he brought his voice down to a whisper as the rest of the team walked past. He breath tickling the side of my cheek as he spoke; strange… it sent a shiver down my spine, "you protecting that little art student? What's up with that? It's not like you…. Alfred" it felt like his lips were getting closer to my ear, "why are you acting all _weird_ like recently… it's not like _you_" I couldn't take it anymore. I turned my head away from him.

"What are you trying to do Matthias… are you trying to pull a move on me here. I already told you… what happened meant nothing" he chuckled and tilted his head back, "what's so funny?" he shrugged and continued to chuckle.

"Nothing, nothing… it's just… it definitely seemed like it meant something!" he pulled me closer to his shirtless chest, "if ya get what I mean" he winked and I rolled my eyes.

"It was the Christmas Party last year Matthias. We were heavily drunk, single and trying to get the attention of others. It meant nothing" I tried to brush off his arm and walk away. He grabbed at my wrist and tugged.

"OooOoh! So it meant nothing even though when you moaned for more hmm? Did that mean nothing?" I ripped my arm out of his grasp and snarled.

"I know what you're trying to do Matthias. And it's not working" I tilted my head in the general direction of the campus; he was oblivious to the fact that his secret one was approaching us fast, "stop being so desperate. If you want someone to love you just tell them-"

"That's cheap coming from you." He raised a brow and glanced to the second floor of the University building which overlooked the playing fields; I looked in the same direction and something caught my eye… a small white face was peering out of the farthest window and sketching on a canvas, I knew who it was. I swallowed hard and turned away. Matthias smirked smugly.

"I-I…" words failed me as my heart began to palpitate once again from the mere memory of his voice.

"**Keep it" **

"I… I have to go" I turned and ran towards the campus; mud flicking up the backs of my legs, behind me I could hear a conversation beginning.

"What was that about Matt."

"Oh. Uh… nothing Luke… hey… are you- y'know… doing anything la-"

"No. I'm not busy" I smiled to myself as I headed towards the cultural department. I had to find this man.

I sprinted up the stairs onto the second floor and ran down the hall. I peeked my head in each art room, then I poked my head into the one Francis was modelling in, "Ah! Look at this! It is the Hero! Come and join us my friend!" his voice cooed like a paedophilic dove above the giggle of the ladies. His Eiffel Tower was hidden by nothing more than a small bunch of roses. I gagged a little before composing myself.

"Uh no thanks… but have you seen that blonde guy you room with anywhere? Shortish in height, pale skin, green eyes, thick eyebrows, very British?" Francis shrugged.

"If he isn't in any of the art rooms here I don't know! Je suis desolet…" I groaned in frustration.

"Right. Thanks anyway… see ya later…uh make good choices" I closed the door unfruitful and sighed. I held the piece of paper in my hand and frowned at it forlorn, running my huge palm through my slick blonde hair, "darn…" my voice heavy and strained with disappointment, "I guess I'll never know his name after all…" I pocketed it and trailed down the stairs. I suppose I would have to wait until tomorrow's Biology class to see his face again. Just thinking of having to wait until then was painful… so close yet so far away. So I decided to take my troubles into the showers with me.

The showers were always a great way to help me relax and chew on thoughts from the passing day. But I could only have a shower late at night after everyone was going to sleep… why? Well… I can never help myself.

11.30pm every single night was the time I showered. A time when no one was around. The halls would be barren and no signs of life would be present.

I checked each cubicle before dropping my clothes outside the shower and turning on the water. I loved showering, _"~When somebody loves you… it's no good unless he loves you… all the way_" steam lingered around me as I ran my hands through my hair and grinned into the warm droplets which trickled down my skin; soft clouds and the sound of water pattering sounded like rain, _"~Happy to be near you, when you need someone to cheer you…all the way…_" When no one was around I sung. My mother used to sing me to sleep when I was a child and I would drift off to the sweet sound of her voice; I suppose I get my voice from my mother, I don't care if I'm a good singer either… I just love the way it liberates me. I don't have to pretend to be someone I'm not when I sing. The real Alfred Franklin Jones. Not 'Captain' or 'Hero'… just good old me.

There was a gasp outside the shower.

I stopped singing. There was someone else in here. Someone was listening to me. I listened hard… I reached out for the tap and turned the water off. Suddenly there was a soft flurry of flustered footsteps. There was definitely someone in here. I pulled open the shower curtain and looked around. No one else was using the showers when I came in. Yet, now there was a curtain pulled on another cubicle. I stepped towards the cubicle… I stopped. They would know if I was coming for them because the shower was off. I turned back to my shower and turned the water back on. Then I heard a deep sigh of relief, come from the cubicle, "GOT YOU!" he uttered a scream of shock as I pulled the shower curtain back completely and grinned into the face of none other than Arty; I was dripping wet and completely butt naked, he looked very uncomfortable.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU KNOW IT WAS ME!?" he yelled in embarrassment and horror.

"Well I didn't know it was you… but I knew it was someone hiding in this shower" I laughed at him in his red faced discomfiture, "who would take a shower fully clothed anyway! You'd have to be pretty unhappy with your body bathe in your clothes! Hah!"

"I see you have no problem with your body image though" he snapped turning his gaze to the ceiling. I looked down at my Empire State building and made no flinch or reaction, in fact I just laughed.

"I don't really care to be honest, I 'll look how I was born to look ya know and I think it turned out pretty good huh? Ahahah!" my voice trailed off in the as I looked down at Arty… who was staring at my bare chest; his little emerald eyes glittering as he stared at me in what seemed to be awe, like a child staring at a toy they've always dreamed of having… somehow I think what he was thinking was different. I made no move to stop him from looking; in fact I wanted him look at me, I wanted him to stare at me… maybe then he'd feel the same way. But somehow I guessed that it wouldn't happen. He swallowed hard and tried to tear his eyes away, which seemed next to impossible.

"Y-you're breath taking…" he mumbled.

"What?" I snapped back to reality and looked down at his awe-struck complexion. He babbled for a while before forcing some form of language from his lips. I pretended not to notice what he actually said. It made me feel giddy.

"Your singing! It's breath taking! I had no idea that YOU of all people had a voice like that… it's amazing" his face dusted with pink. I frowned. Was he blushing?

"Oh! You… really think so?" I scratched the back of my head, "I only sing in the shower… my father hates it" he scowled at me.

"Why? Why would anyone hate a voice like that!? You're better than Glen Miller dare I say it!" my breath hitched and i gave a stupid smile. Did he really say that. Did he really just say that!? "why aren't you in the choir?"

"Are you serious? What do you think the rugby boys would say if they saw their Captain singing in the choir like a sissy girl? Doing scales and forcing smiles! Why don't you tell anyone you're an artist?" I smugly raised a brow. He grumbled and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Fine. I see your point… but a voice like that…there's something about your voice… something rich and warm like brandy swirling in my chest, an inexpressible heat-" He stopped. I stared. He was frozen to the back on the cubicle. I was never more aroused in my life. No one had ever described me in such a way before. My eyes didn't move, nothing… not even a flicker. He made me feel so big… like a dog towering over a mouse who had no escape. My body acted of its own accord and I stepped into the cubicle and grabbed his arms. I continued to stare at him. He did the same. At that moment I realised how brilliant his lips were; they were softer than a blossom petal which floated daintily upon a crystal clear lake, which was seldom seen in England. My heart was now pounding harder like a hammer against my chest. His face was a breath away. He smelled like paint and peppermint candies, the remarkable scent intoxicated me. The many things I could have done to him at that moment in time raced through my mind; but I couldn't, he looked terrified already… but oh if I could… I would.

"Do you really mean it?" I whispered. His breath was soft and tickled as it caressed my cheeks; it smelt of earl grey tea, he nodded weakly. I grinned, "wow…" that was the last thing I said for a while, my eyes just continued to roam my complexion… trying so hard not to attack him with the yearning of the past three and a half years, "then it's settled!" I pulled away and he exhaled.

"I'm not sure I understand." he frowned up at me.

"I'll sing if you draw!" my chest leaped. He blurted out.

"YES!" he covered his mouth again and I simply burst out laughing.

"Great! Then from this moment on we're partners!" a flutter stirred in the pit of my stomach. Partners.

We were partners.

Suddenly… something rose in my chest. My lungs felt like they had exploded.

My eyes shot open.

There was an explosion; but it didn't come from my lungs. I was surrounded by sea water. Where was the boat? I flailed my arms out and weakly pulled against the water; if I had been unconscious for a few minutes longer I would probably have drowned, I struggled against my numbing limbs as the light from the surface grew closer and closer.

My head burst from the surface and I took a huge gasp of sweet oxygen; my throbbing migraine was calmed ever so slightly as I felt the warm pleasant tingling of blood and air re-entering my brain. My chest heaved for a few moments as I treaded water and looked around. The boat was nowhere to be seen and I panicked. The ocean stretched for miles and miles littered with planks and what seemed to be various debris. I paddled over to a plank and threw myself onto the wood. But no. This wasn't a plank. The soldier's body bobbed limply on the surface and yelled and recoiled; his face was blue with air deprivation, he was dead.

What the hell was going on. I was meant to be going home. But now… I was the only living thing within miles of dry land.

I was all alone.

I had closed my eyes for a second; then my world collapsed.

God wanted me to survive it seemed; because I saw a little wooden lifeboat floating a few meters away, and although each muscle twitched and trembled with enormous fatigue, flaccid and worthless… I forced myself to make it just a little bit further.

I flopped onto my back in the lifeboat.

The sky above me was so clear and vast; stretching its blue arms around the entire world, I stared at it for a few moments… soaking in what happened.

My throat burned. I curled over and began to shake. My breathing started to become shallower. It were as if some unearthly force had wrapped its hands around my chest and squeezed with all its might… only getting tighter. My breaths resembled small hiccups. The tears came. When they came they refused to stop.

So it began to rain.

I was so close.

So damn close.

I clutched my waist and rolled onto my side; the rough wood soaked up my cold tears as if it were trying to comfort me, nothing could comfort me now.

I had lost my platoon.

I had lost my ticket home.

I had lost my glasses.

I had lost my dog tags.

My hands scrambled into my pocket furiously; fingers trembling as they touched a familiar texture, delicately I pulled out the paper and unfolded the soaked image.

The picture was smudged slightly. But it appeared crystal clear to my eyes… I hung my head and ground down my teeth.

This was all I had left.

The memory of a man whose name I couldn't remember.

My one reason to find a way back.

My reason to survive.

_My road home..._


	2. Part 2

**The Road Home**

_Part 2_

The soft swell lulled me conscious. My head spinning.

Sweat soaked my white tank top; tattered and torn, one would think I had been granted the luxury of being drenched in water… ice cold water. My tongue hung pathetic and dusty in my mouth, as colourless lips; heavily chapped and cracked, screamed for moisture.

My fingers twitched as the rising and falling of his chest beneath my head felt like I was on a ship; sailing across a fabric ocean. I had always wanted to see the ocean… when I was a child I always wanted to be a Pirate more than anything; sail the seas, lawless and free. Arty's breathing tousled my hair gently like a soft sea breeze, the heat of his skin warming my face like the bright sun. He clung to my chest as a little koala bear clings to his tree; little fingers curling into my skin. It tickled as his hands crimped around my arm; a soft vice… a little limpet. His face was pale and expressionless, like a porcelain doll lying limp aside me. His lips were parted slightly as his breath rattled delicately in his chest; rising and falling… rising and falling… like a gentle loll of ocean waves. Rising and falling.

As heroes on the battle field; rising… and _falling_.

My arm moaned as I dragged it across my hot chest to his face. My fingers ached when I reached to touch his hair. I rubbed my thumb and forefinger against a lock of gold. I released a sigh of satisfaction. The strands curled around my thin calloused fingers and clung to my skin as I twirled my finger around the lock; softer than I imagined silk to be. I inhaled a crackling breath and sighed through pops and hisses from my desiccated vocal chords, I was surprised I wasn't collecting dust. I coughed a measly cough. My entire body throbbed as the small shockwave echoed in my chest.

He opened his eyes.

"Mmnngh… wha?" he mumbled dreamily yawning and rubbing his eyes like a little rabbit, "Al… Alfred~?" I smiled feebly and raised a trembling finger to his lips.

"Sh-shh…" he looked at me for a moment hazily.

"Why aren't you asleep? Heaven knows what he was thinking in those few seconds.

"C'nt sleep…" I squeaked hoarsely. He rolled his eyes and propped his body upon his elbows, he shook his head above me…

"Well… we can't have that can we…" I rocked my head side to side vacantly.

"S'ng f'r me…" I whispered. He frowned.

"You know I can't sing…"

"Y'know m' songs… j'st one…" I gave him my best attempt at puppy dog eyes; my eyes stung even on the mere thought of furrowing my eyebrows together, "f'r me?" he pursed his lips and exhaled in reluctant contrition.

"Fine" he cleared his throat, "_And now, the end is near… And so I face the final curtain… My friend, I'll say it clear_~"

"'rm… maybe s'mth'n a l'ttle less sombre…"

"Picky…" he tapped his lips and frowned, "ah… well here goes…" he clears his throat again, "_My funny valentine… sweet comic valentine... you make me smile with my heart~"_

"Th'ts m're like it…" I shuddered and rest my head back into the sound of his voice.

I closed my eyes.

"_Your looks are laughable, un-photographable… yet you're my favourite work of art~"_ his voice wasn't rich and wholesome like most men's… it was lighter and as some described it: more feminine. He never sang, "_Is your figure less than greek… is your mouth a little weak… when you open it to speak, are you smart?~_" I always thought his voice resembled that of a robin's; a little bird flitting from branch to branch blessing the world with it's sweet aria, "_but don't change a hair for me~"_ It danced on a breath of wind as a blossom did… rather than resonate like that of a bell being struck, "_not if you care for me~_" I smiled. I liked it. I reached out in the dark for his face, "_stay little valentine stay~"_ my arm flailed above me weakly; searching for the feel of his soft flesh against my rough palms. Nothing, "_each day…"_ his voice began to grow softer and more further away; as if he were disappearing down a tunnel, it echoed hollowly, "_is valentines…"_

I wrenched open my eyes.

"_Day~"_

The sun pierced my retina.

Where was I.

What was I doing here.

The ground beneath me rocked as I spasmed onto my elbows.

My heart punching my chest wall.

Eyeballs clawing the walls of their sockets.

Lungs tearing at their tissue.

Brain straining to define reality.

How many days had I spent lying unconscious in this crappy boat, floating somewhere in the English Channel.

I sighed out the remaining emptiness in my body before crawling onto my hands and knees; despite the searing pain along every nerve ending, to the hull of the boat. I squinted at the blurry lines I had etched into the wood. I fumbled in my pocket for the fish bone I had used to scratch each line in and scored a short line through four others.

1095 days.

Roughly.

The boat only continued to be decorated in the little lines; day in day out, like a routine to keep me sane… ish.

My mind could only handle so much before collapsing into a world of fallacy.

But when you have been stranded on a little boat for over three years you find time to think things over and be grateful for the simplest of things. Like the weather.

Sunny days you thank whoever is keeping me alive for the shadows the sun makes; you can use the shadows to find where north is.

Clear nights you can find where south is by using the constellations as markers.

The best days are the rainy days… fresh water pitters and patters upon my draughted world with little feet; tingling on my dark brown flesh as I feel the pores in my skin slurping up the droplets with eager tongues. I remember how Arty used to say something about the rain… "And soon it will rain" I think he used to say. Of course I had no idea what it means, and I still don't fully understand it. But he used to say it when he was in a bad mood…

I pull myself over the side of the boat and splash my face with a handful of seawater to wake what senses I had left.

"And soon it will rain…"

I freeze.

"That's what he used say… right Al?"

I looked up into the reflection. I let out a gasp. My eyes were locked with the image in the water; standing behind me like a shadow on the far side of the boat, opening and closing his mouth as if he were the one speaking. He smiled.

I shakily turned my head as far as it would around to look at the image presented to me. He frowned, "What? Is there a problem?" My stomach wrenched and I tossed my head over the side of the boat. I was turned inside out as I heaved the entire contents of my stomach; which was barely anything, into the water. My body trembled with fatigue after a good few minutes simply staring at the soft loll of the water against the boat's edge; water that was turning yellow and red with bile and blood. Wiping the edge of my cracked lips against the side of the boat I slunk onto the bottom of the boat and squeezed my eyes shut.

This was a dream. It was a lie. I'm going crazy. I opened my eyes.

"I'm still here Alfred" I screamed; well… tried to, all that came out was a coarse squeak. The boat rocked back and forth and I tumbled backwards into the water.

A while later when the sun spilled its blood across the sky and I was too tired to yell and protest that this boy's presence was a lie, I sat at the front of the boat with my legs curled up to my chest and stared at the person dangling his arms over the edge of the boat and tracing patterns into the water. His hair hung messily over his thick eyebrows; which appeared like little caterpillars stuck to his face, little fingers drawing water colours in the sea.

What was HE doing HERE… and HOW the HELL did he get in my boat without me noticing.

I squinted at him through my blurred vision and scratched at the grimy beard which lined my thin jaw like an unkempt hedge.

He sighed and rested his head upon his arm.

He was so tiny. Tinier than I imagined. Although, I grow thinner and thinner with each coming month as my appetite decreases and I grow weaker and weaker... it might be that he was far healthier than I. I stared at him for a while… dazed long enough that he noticed.

"Whaddya you staring at?" he frowned, "there something wrong with my face?" he snapped his gaze at the water and glared intently at his reflection. He scowled and turned back to me glowering, "if it's my eyebrows then you can just rack off idiot," So rude. He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, "bloody git."

I choked.

He was exactly like him. There was no way… a light bulb turned on in my head. I quickly shoved my hand into my jacket pocket which laid at the bottom of the boat and pulled out a small folded piece of paper; it was faded and crinkled in most areas but it was all I had left… the only thing I had left.

I frowned at the image. Then at the boy. Then down at the image. Then up again, "it… can't be…" I whispered in disbelief. Slowly bringing the image up next to the person sitting on the opposite side of my boat… who raised a thick brow in scepticism.

"What? What is it?" he even sounds the same. My eyes began to prickle and I launched myself at the opposite end of the boat; flinging my arms open, "AHHH!" he screamed and tried to run. I clamped my arms around the boy and crushed him as hard as I could to my chest. Hot tears poured down my cheeks as I buried my face into the filthy blonde hair of the boy.

"I d'nt b'lieve it's you! Aft'r all th's time!" he squirmed and wriggled in my spindly wet grasp which stank with sea salt, bad breath and body odour. But why was he trying to get away? He came to see me!?

"GET OFF OF ME YOU BLOODY CREEP!" he gnawed on my wrist with incredible might and I flung myself backwards, "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL D'YA THINK YOU'RE DOIN' GRABBIN A KID LIKE THAT!?" he screamed and recoiled into the far end of the dinghy. I rubbed my wrist and looked for the bite marks.

"Arthur why th' heck d'd y' bite me!?" my voice burned with confusion and vocal strain. The kid raised a brow in total confusion.

"Who the hell is Arthur!?" He threw his arms in the air and grimaced.

"Wh't? You-… but… YOU!" I waved the photograph in front of his face in frustration. Before I could say anything more he snatched it from my hand.

I froze. The hairs at the back of my neck prickled in rage.

"What's this?" the boy frowned at the image.

"Give it b'ck" every ounce of fear boiled in the bottom of my chest; brewing a hideous consequence for the kid holding my life's purpose in his sweaty little palms. He held the picture up to the sun and raised a brow.

"But you can't even tell what it is! It's all old and smudged and stuff" I held out my hand and pierced daggers at the little boy. My vision was blurry; but I could see him clear as crystal.

"Give it b'ck. Now" I snarled coarsely. He turned back to me a little startled.

"Why. It's no good anyway?" he snorted.

"GIVE IT TO ME" I screamed. He recoiled and clutched the picture to his chest; eyes wide with fright. My outstretched hand remained empty as his fingers trembled with fright, "NOW!" his eyes were large and he looked utterly… petrified.

I choked. I remembered this look…

"**GOT YOU!" he uttered a scream of shock as I pulled the shower curtain back completely and grinned into the face of none other than Arty; I was dripping wet and completely butt naked, he looked very uncomfortable. **

The time I scared Arty in the showers at University.

"**Oi! Cap'n!" we stopped in our tracks and peered behind ourselves and came face to face with the other person besides Arty that I had once fallen in love with… even if for only a few seconds.**

"**Matt! Fancy seeing you out here!" I waved and grinned. But something about the sudden tightening around my wrist of Arty's hand told me that something wasn't right. He tugged on my sleeve.**

"**I've got a bad feeling about this…" his eyes huge with uncertainty and cold with fear… I snorted sarcastically. I was so oblivious.**

"**Pah! He's my underling and my friend! What are you so worried about!"**

When Matthias started a fight with me over my 'reputation'.

Then… there was that time…

**I reclined against the window seat and turned my head towards him; his green eyes shivering and focussed completely on me, and only me. I maintained eye contact… stark naked. His pale face emanated with an ethereal glow which highlighted and crept into every crevice of his delicate anatomy. I watched him as he began to press the pencil against the paper, he hesitated at frowned at me, "put your right arm behind your head as if you were running your fingers through your hair…" I smirked and did as I was told. **

This boy resembled him in almost every shape and form.

Regardless… he held the most precious thing to me in his hands; crumpling the edges, simple logic was strained as his facial expression morphed from terrified to gloomy. His lips pursed as he looked down at the picture again. He sniffed and smeared his eyes over his arm, "Fine. If it means so damn much to you…" he reluctantly handed over the paper and turned away to look over the sea's horizon.

I cradled that image in my rough hands; as if it were a freshly hatched chick, still warm from its mother's caress. The soft edges seemed to kiss my fingertips softly, I exhaled shakily and hung my head, " t-th'nkyou…" my lips twitched. The black and white face smirked up at me… that sweet smirk that he would shoot me from behind a canvas. How I would lay on the couch of his art studio and hum to myself softly. But his mere presence was the most beautiful melody; a sweet low song that warmed the room with its timbre, distracting me constantly. He would occasionally peep around the corner of the canvas to find my eyes latched upon him; he was an addiction for me… a brilliant drug that I could never get enough of… I had, a formidable hunger it seemed, he would swallow invisible saliva and hide behind the safety of his canvas… ignoring the fact that I continued to scorch my glare into his gorgeous flesh.

I squeezed my lips together and pressed my chapped lips to the paper.

It seemed to kiss back.

I cleared my throat, "I… I'm sorry kid…" little did I know that he had been watching me the whole time I was staring at the image, "didn't mean to shout…" the kid shook his head and pulled his knees up to his chest.

"S'okay…" he watched at how I handled the paper as I folded it into my jacket pocket dexterously, "…why…" I looked up after patting it safely in my jacket pocket which lay on the floor of the boat, "…why's it so special?" I raised a brow and leant back onto the boats edge, "I mean… it's just a lame old piece of paper?" I smirked and cocked my head to one side.

"It's n't like th't…" I ran my hands through my long hair which dried with a slight wave; it was long enough to tie up if I had a hair tie, "it's the only thing I've g't left…" I stared up at the sky as a singular cloud passed by; it was all alone in the sky, "it's my 'nly reason for surv'val…" the water lapped lightly at the edge of the boat as I slid down onto my back; watching the wisp of white drift along, "… call it… my t'cket home if you will…" I strained my eyes down to look at the kid. He looked very confused.

"Riiiiiight…" he nodded his head vigorously. He paused, "so what is it?" I chuckled in the back of my throat.

"It's a photogr'ph"

"OOoohhh… is it your giirrllfriieeeennnd?" he raised his thick eyebrows and giggled.

"Boyfriend" his face skewed into a confounded contortion.

"What."

"Never m'nd… someone who I really, _really_ c're 'bout" the child shrugged it off and continued to stare at the ocean's horizon. After a few moments of silence willed with the slosh of water he muttered something almost inaudibly.

"Do you love him…" his brilliant blue eyes clouded with a hazy fixation. My mouth opened to reply instantly… but I hesitated when no words came out. I knew his face for sure; and how my heart leapt around in my chest when I saw it and remembered things about that face… but I couldn't remember what the face was called, and an epithet was no way to address a lover. Why couldn't I remember his name.

It frustrated me.

"I… th'nk I do" I sighed.

"You can't say that idiot. You either do or you don't" his eyes never flickered from the horizon. This strange kid appears in my boat without invitation or warning and starts questioning me on deep metaphysical subjects like true love; and he expected me to give definite answers!? I was becoming far more angry with myself for not knowing the answers rather than his presence.

"Fine. I do… I love him"

"Sure?"

"Positive"

"Then why aren't you with him?"

"Because!..." Why wasn't I with Arty? Then I remembered. I scrubbed my hands over my face in a shattering epiphany, "because… I was arrogant… I was selfish and stubborn and…" I bit my tongue in frustration, "shit."

It was MY fault.

"**Alfred Franklin Jones" I saw him freeze. He wrenched his neck to the left reticently; even I could feel his body try and restrict this movement, my voice. There's something about your voice he said… something rich; warm like brandy swirling in his chest, an inexpressible heat. He could never describe it…., "Graduate of London University with Bachelor of Physical Education" they pierced me. The icy green wrung my delicate heart and strained my voice. He had never known his name until this very moment… in such an unpleasant circumstance. He stared at me. I stared at him. **

"**Name" We snapped out of the trance, but never forgot the fact that his presence lingered.**

"**Art~… Kirkland" He looked back at me… whose mouth was now slightly open. I was stunned. His name… was… beautiful. I was a foolish lout for never knowing it. His eyes ensnared onto me with a certain emotion that I could not pinpoint. Eyes sharp and rapt, I simply watched him as he glowered at me with a fixating stare; latched upon me; enmeshing my breath with an intense grasp, a formidable despair it seemed… he was suffering.**

"**Army. Front Line" I felt the temperature done. What had I done. His stare squeezed like a vice. What had I done. I was condemned.**

I slapped a hand over my mouth and squeezed my eyes shut. Tears wrenched their salty fingers from my lids and sprinted down my hot cheeks; dripping onto the floor of the boat and into the ocean, joining the tears of others… the rest of the world in its sorrows. Such as mine. The dead soldiers who lay blue lipped at the bottom of the ocean in a peaceful slumber beneath the ripples and splashes of the waves; shedding tears for their wives and children… who prayed on the sides of their beds each night, pressing their soft rosy cheeks to their little clasped hands and wishing for daddy to come home and play catch with them… their daddy who was cold and lifeless.

Another corpse to be forgotten. Beneath the rising and falling of the waves… another fallen hero.

I peeked through the blurred vision at the little boy; rosy cheeked and silky haired, milk white flesh and sky blue eyes. I must have looked like death next to him.

I wiped my eyes on the back of my wrist and took a few deep breaths; composure is the key to sanity "so…" I mumbled through shaky breaths, "what's y'ur name kid? H'w did you get here?" A good question from me.

He simply shrugged. I furrowed my brow and sniffed, "you gotta have s'me idea?" he scratched his head.

"Nup! Not a clue!"

"Aren't you w'rried that you don't r'member!?" he shook his head. He was a lot more relaxed about forgetting crucial things than I was that was for sure. I ran my hands through my hair again and swept the stray strands off of my forehead, "do you know y'ur name at least?" he frowned at the floor of the boat before scrunching up his nose and shaking his head from side to side.

"No…" I groaned.

"Y're just as bad as me!"

"But your name is Alfred! Both of us know that!" I leant forward to the boy who seemed to be getting very hot and bothered about the whole situation.

"How did y'know wh't my name was..." he shrugged. Again.

"Agh! Don't y'know ANYTHING!?"

"Hey! I know things! I just don't know HOW I KNOW them!" he snorted and turned up his nose at me.

"Don't you sass me l'ttle kid… or this boat ain't big enough for b'th of us…" I growled. He gulped.

"Kay! Sorry geez!" he raised a palm and removed his little sailors hat. The clothes he wore was very strange… he was dressed in a white sailor suit with blue stripes; complete with a little hat and cape-ish thing. Needless to say it suited him. I wondered for a moment if Arty would have looked good in a sailor suit. But that thought was soon too far gone to linger.

"So will you be st'ying with me on my ship kid?" I shook my head as he scratched the tip of his nose in deep thought.

"Well I don't know how to get home… or even where my home is for that fact… so…" I rolled my eyes.

"I'll take th't as a yes then…" I leant forward onto my knees and outstretched my palm to the boy who looked at it, "welc'me aboard kid" he shook my hand with an eager pride; which seemed to make something stir in the bottom of my chest. But it wasn't important, "so… f'rst of all you'll need a name"

"Any ideas?"

"Don't you know what you would want to be called?"

"Pssht! I don't know any cool names!"

"Right…" I tapped my bottom lip and scrubbed my hand over my face again, going through all the names of those I knew, "Aaron… Warren… Raymond… Joe… Steve…Pe-" I looked up at the boy. He stared at me intently with a fervent glimmer in his eye. In my head I formulated a name and smirked to myself.

"What! Tell me!" he bounced on his knees.

"How about… Peekay or P.K… Stands for Peter Kirkland. The initials of two great men I used to know…" I paused, "DO know"

Peekay.

_The crossroad of my journey home._

* * *

_**OFF TO CAMBODIA FOR TWO 1/2 WEEKS NOW! Bye bye :) :) **_

_**Will update after Christmas! **_

_**- Pockethero!**_


	3. Part 3

**The Road Home**

**_Part 3_**

Four years.

Forty eight months.

Two hundred and eight weeks.

One thousand four hundred and sixty days.

Thirty five thousand and sixty four hours.

Two million one hundred three thousand eight hundred forty minutes.

One hundred twenty-six million two hundred thirty thousand four hundred seconds.

Blood dribbled across my red powdery flesh as my eyelids lolled open and closed; my skin which flaked like red snow, peeled and curled… and throbbed beneath blisters coloured a sickly mustard hue. My fingernails split as splintered wood buried itself beneath my body in every available orifice; puss and dried blood oozing from infected wounds.

The puss smeared across the paper face. Smiling awkwardly through the vile gunk into my wizening eyes; which seemed to sink into my skull surrounded by dark rings and a face which looked like it had been stretched across a wooden frame, my reflection was not mine. It looked like a skeleton had pulled a plastic suit over its bones in a futile attempt to appear human.

My arms were mere toothpicks and my chest rattled as dust ricocheted between my ribs and around my desiccated lungs. I coughed measly and clutched my chest as hard as my hands would allow it.

It burned as mustard gas.

It felt like the inside of my frail body was searing and sizzling with every shaky breath of stale sea air.

"You look real sick Al…" I relaxed my hands onto my chest and tilted my head limply towards the voice. Peekay knelt on his hands and knees beside my head and furrowed his thick brows together. His little pink lips pursed in concern, "like… real, REAL sick…" I attempted a snort of indifference but ended up wheezing and spluttering madly on the floor of the boat; splinters prickling into my unhealed back wound which stank richly of festering flesh and blood, my black singlet was encrusted to my back through puss and infected tissue. A smell so bad that you could taste it became an everyday flavour to my shrivelled tongue; the scent particles collecting in the back of my throat and serving as my daily meal. Putrefying dermis… delicious.

"Does… does it hurt?" he shivered as I delicately wiped away a dribble of blood trickling from my eye crease, recoiling at the slightest skin on skin contact. I shook my head slowly and uttered my best smirk. He clenched his fists against the wood, "stinking liar" he snarled and pouted. He sat up on his bottom and covered his eyes with his fringe; Peter did this when he was about to cry, it was something I had picked up on through the past year he had been in my boat. I could read every little habit and personal inclination of Peter's like a book. When he was thinking he would scratch the tip of his nose, when he was trying to remember something he would tap his chin, when angry he would clench his fists and blow up his cheeks… he was a little flickering candle floating atop my ocean of suffering; a torch in the caverns to illuminate my paths, the second thing that really mattered to me. Other than Arty. He was first. He would always be first.

I wanted to hush him and tell him it would be alright; which was a blatant lie as I could feel my heart beat flutter like a baby bird, being strangled by a winters frost. Slowly accepting conquest without a single hope. But instead of it being cold… I had a different strange feeling in my chest.

He snivelled and choked out, "I! I wanna help you!" It felt like, "Why can't I help you Al!?" perhaps soon, "b-but everything's gonna be alright! Right? That's what you usually say Al! Right?" that… soon it will rain.

I rocked my head into a nod and rolled back to face the sky.

And soon it will rain.

My eyes felt heavy in my skull and retreated back into their sockets.

There was a plip.

"Al…"

Then a plop.

"F-fred?"

A pitter and a patter.

"D-don't fool with me Alfred... this isn't f-funny!"

A rush of running water.

"Quit playing Al. You h-hear me? QUIT IT WILL YOU!?"

A cool flush bristled across my chalky skin.

"STOP IT!"

I shivered in a freezing pleasure.

"WAKE UP YOU GIT!"

The rushing sound grew louder in my ears and Peter's voice started drifting further and further away…

"WAKE UP! WAKE UP!"

I felt nothing but the ripple of an almost lustful bliss when a drop of water collided with my forehead.

"Wake up!"

Followed by another.

"Wake up"

And another.

"Wake…up…"

Until the voice vanished into the thick grumble of thunder.

"Wake~…"

And this blissful pitter patter of water.

"…"

So it began to rain.

I pressed my forehead against his and pressed my bare chest against him; strangely his kept his eyes wide open, he appeared was far too terrified to close them, perhaps the prank of vanishing took a huge toll on the poor guy. To comfort him I wrapped a hand behind the small of his back and pulled him closer into my embrace; indulging myself into the guilty pleasure of his intoxicating presence. I wiped away the tears from his cheeks. I said nothing. The only sounds uttered were hitched breaths and shaky sighs; his breath condensing on my skin, earl grey sighs tickling my flesh. I felt him shiver in my grasp and trembled myself when he uttered a small embarrassed moan, he clutched my back and gripped my white shirt which slid off all too easily; his soft chilly hands scrambled at my shoulders, slipping beneath the building sweat which I adored. I pulled him harder into my body and his arms refused to let go as I made contact with every inch of his mesmerising existence. His breathing was becoming more and more sharp as my lips trailed up his neck and across his jaw; I let go of his back and clutched my hands on both sides of his little skull and pulled his gorgeous face until it was a breath away, his lips would not rest against mine… so close yet so far away. It was painful. Why was he holding back. I yearned so badly for the sealing kiss of this man who was supposed to be a mere opportunity for my career; an opportunity who I was now grinding into the window seat of our sanctuary, some opportunity indeed. But by god this restriction was driving my head into a cruel ecstasy. We never lost eye contact. I refused to turn away and so did he it seemed.I had to speak. I ceased honing and between desperate gasps uttered a few raspy words that I had kept locked away in my throat for far too long, "I want you" I sighed into his mouth, still refraining from making any contact, "I've always wanted you… from the very moment you showed your gorgeous complexion at this place I've wanted you… so so badly…" I ran my large calloused thumbs across his cheeks roughly, "I may not know your name… but I've never been more hooked on another human in my life… and I want you so badly" never before had I been more desperate and vulnerable in the eyes of a living thing before; it reached into my chest and wrung my heart like a flannel, "I need you" my voice strained and my chest juddered as I released a shaky breath beneath his blushing, sweaty, petrified stare. He flicked his eyes quickly down to my lips and quivered in my grip, and for an instant I knew exactly what he wanted and I knew exactly how to satisfy his craving. He nervously leant forward; feeling the tingle of his presence reach for mine, his body wouldn't let him any closer it seemed… my lips screamed. So I nudged in.

An explosion.

Suddenly my feet were being dragged downwards with an inexplicable force; as if gravity had dramatically increased its pull. It tore at my legs and arms and a searing hot sensation ripped through my limbs. I wanted to scream but no sound would come out; not even a squeak.

I shot open my eyes but there was nothing to be seen; the world passed by in a blur of black and white slur, a mush of images slushed through my retina in an organized chaos. Every nerve ending shrieked as by body was thrown downwards and my body rag-dolled, arms and legs flailing uselessly like spaghetti strands. My head reverberated and reflected images and shrieks of what could be voices.

"Pe-…eter!" I managed to call hoarsely. The noises around me sprung in volume and I scrunched my face pain and forced a yell of frustration. The earth wrapped it's tendrils around my meagre body; crushing my ribs and compacting my brain, as a thousand shrill voices rapped at my skull like hornets. My chest heaved as if something was jumping on my chest like a trampoline; springing up and down in some cruel pleasure. Jabs of undulating pain shredded down my spine, as if the pain was peeling away at me. I could no longer hear the sound of rain. The pitter patter of tiny feet was gone. I closed my eyes and stopped yelling… what was the point if it were to be useless anyway. Everything was useless.

As soon as my eyes pressed shut the sound recoiled into the darkness.

It was silent.

I laid in this silence on my back with my arms and legs outstretched; reaching for something- anything that I knew wasn't there, it was never there…

Air dribbled slowly into my lungs again in shaky intervals. A warm fuzzy feeling began to tickle the front of my head along with the tips of my fingers; it kind of resembled the feeling of a cats tongue licking my fingers with its prickly tongue.

I opened my mouth and expected to feel the crackling of dry skin and distinct taste of salty blood… a hot trickle seeped down my neck and pooled into my stomach. The taste was familiar… incredibly familiar to my lips.

**It felt like one million fire crackers were set off at the same time and exploded their miasmic spectrum of colours in my head. His lips tasted of cool mint and earl grey tea… a winters morning defined in the lips of my once supressed lover. There it was. I slammed a hand against the window behind him and my palms wrapped around his skull bruising his beautiful taste against me, he breathed hard and fast as I nudged into him as forceful as I could; there was nothing stopping us now, I could never refer to him as an opportunity ever again after this moment where our hearts beat in complete synchronization.**

Cool mint… and lavender. I swallowed the liquid hard and began to cough; my chest no longer burnt as bad, and my back no longer smelt raw and putrefying.

I opened my eyes further.

There were white walls, dotted with three frames. The ceiling was covered in wooden boards and a singular lamp swung from it. There was a wardrobe in the far corner of the room next to a wooden door which was closed. I laid on a bed which was not my own, nor was it familiar to me. White crisp sheets which had been folded back off of my shirtless body… thin and malnourished and decorated unsparingly with white bandages.

This came as a shock. My wounds had been cleaned and dressed so they no longer smelt as vile as they did. My hair had been pulled back off of my face into what seemed to be a plait; I would have commented on the lack of masculinity, but now was hardly the time. My beard had been cleaned up too… but it was still very VERY long.

I tried to roll over onto my side… but a soft hand stopped me. The slender fingers rested a hand on my shoulder and slowly rested me back into a lying position, "Chut maintenant… tout simplement se détendre accord?" it was a girl. She sat at the side of my bed and dipped a cotton sheet into a small bowl on her lap, "Tout ira bien ... où êtes-vous?" her voice stroked against my ears as she spoke; a velvety sound. She wrung out the sheet and folded it over before resting it across my forehead, "Vous me comprenez?" I couldn't understand a word she spoke. She furrowed her soft brown brows and rested a hand across my cheek, "Parlez-vous français?" Francais… the meant French. I shook my head from one side to another. Her hazel eyes lit up from this reaction… because it was a reaction, "Habla usted español entonces?" Espanol meant Spanish. I shook my head again. She pursed her pink lips, "Nederlands?" I was beginning to get a little impressed with how many languages she knew, "you're not a German or a Pirate are you!?" she raised her brows and recoiled her hand a little. I snorted and shook my head. She relaxed again, "British then… I suppose?" I opened my mouth to speak.

"A…American…" her eyes widened in shock.

"Gosh!" she covered her mouth with her hands. Her accent was thick with a strange accent which I couldn't describe… it sounded mostly French but it seemed there was a hint of Spanish in the way her tongue sometimes rolled, "did- did you sail here from America!?" I shook my head again. She released a sigh of relief and clasped her hand son her chest and she looked up at the ceiling, "thank the god! So where did you come from then American?"

"Front line…" I coughed, "boarded Calais… France…" her face slowly morphed from one of confusion to one of distraught, "ship sank… four years in a boat with… with…" my eyes swept around the room frantically, "with..." my heart leapt when I saw Peter curled into a ball asleep on a chair on the other side of the bed.

"Four years? On THAT boat!?" I nodded.

"W…where am I?" I tried to push myself onto my elbows but my chest rippled in pain and I collapsed back onto my back wound and uttered a squeak of pain when my newly dressed back wound hit the bed; still… it was softer than splintered wood, "How did I… get here?"

"Relax American… you are safe here. Papa found you in your boat halfway to Scilly from here when he was out on a voyage… your boat sank not long after… sorry…" for some reason I wasn't sad about that at all, "you were being unconscious so my father sailed straight back here before you could get any worse. When he arrived back Papa and I had to drag you up here. Papa had to perform CPR and break one of your ribs to make you breathe again… but that was a number of days back. Papa said you shouldn't be living, that you were some kind of miracle man" I raised a brow. My rib was broken? I'm a miracle? Her English wasn't amazing but at least I could understand her. She removed the cotton from my forehead and put it back in the bowl, "I cleaned you up… you were pretty battered up. Took me a while to pick out the splinters from your back I have to say… so many-"

"Please…" I spoke a little more forcefully, "I am very grateful… but I must know… what is happening right now" she looked down at me sheepishly and put the bowl in the floor.

"I am called Anouk, Anouk Mar – Navire… this is me and my Papa's house. You sailed from Calais… right?"

"That's where we departed…" she raised her eyebrows.

"American-"

"Alfred… Alfred Franklin Jones"

"Al-alfred… okay… this is Ushant"

"Ushant?"

"My home. It's an island at the farthest point of the English Channel and the beginning of the Celtic Sea… you were about seventeen point five leagues northwest of here when Papa found you" a single league was equal to 3.5 miles in nautical terms, "if he didn't find you sooner you could have been lost in the Celtic Sea by now…" I stopped listening to her once I realised I couldn't find my jacket from the boat.

"Where are my clothes…" she looked at me strangely.

"Pardon?"

"The clothes I was wearing before… where are they"

"They were covered in blood and were awfully dirty… so we put them in the fire…" I felt my fists clench around the bed sheets, the cracks in my knuckles split open again and started to bleed. Anouk gasped and held my hand in her own, "ah! Your hands!" I cared not for my own wellbeing any longer.

"Did you burn my jacket…" I muttered through a clenched jaw.

"You shouldn't clench your hands like that, it's bad for-"

"Did you burn my jacket Anouk!?" I strained a yell. She jumped a little. Anouk averted her gaze to the floor before letting out a small.

"Yes…" my knuckles bled harder into the white sheets.

My chest began to crackle and I swallowed the awkward lump growing in my throat. I wanted to let it out; call his name and pull him into my arms, and crush him to his chest and lift him above my head like I used to. I wanted to feel my heart pound in my head and feel the bubbling adrenaline under my skin when he peered up at me.

My face began to heat up and my throat began to throb in pain. I grit my teeth in a disdainful smile, "right" I choked out. Anouk could see perfectly past my mask.

"I'm so sorry… I didn't know it meant so much to you" she pouted a little in shame.

My eyes began to sting and I swallowed the pain in my throat. I pressed my hand over my mouth and forced my lips together. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to inhale calmly; which turned into shaky sighs and hiccups. I needed to calm down… I needed to breathe.

I curled over and began to shake. My breathing started to become shallower. It were as if some unearthly force had wrapped its hands around my chest and squeezed with all its might… only getting tighter.

"P-please calm down! If you don't you'll start bleeding again!" Anouk flustered and wrung out the cloth again and began to clean up my reopening wounds, "breathe deeply and um… spell out your name nice and slow okay?"

"Alfred… F-Franklin… Jones…" I whispered into my hand.

"A" for Arrogant, "L" for loser, "F" for failure, "R" regretful, "E" for egotistical, "D" for disgraceful, "F" for foul, "R" for retarded, "A" for appalling, "N" for napalm, "K" for killer, "L" for lame, "I" for immoral, "N" for nebulous, "J" for Jones… Mister Jones. The man the world loved and then forgot… wiped off the face of the earth for his ignorance and self-love… a horrid man who was selfish.

I wanted to scream.

Anouk gently patted the cloth against my chest as I broke down in tears; she frowned affectionately at me who was shaking from self-loathing, "it's alright Frank… everything will be alright"

But little did she know I had lost everything.

When she burnt that jacket.

_When she burnt that photograph._

* * *

**Hey guys I'm back and busier than ever! **

**Happy New Year!**

**So sorry this is a shorter chapter but I will have to shorten the chapters from now on... so busy :/**

**I hope you're enjoying it so far :) **

**Ushant and Scilly are real places. **

**Anouk Mar- Navire is my OC for the Island of Ushant by the way and I will upload an image of her and give you guys a link :)**

**Please enjoy these chapters, I'm working hard to make 'em keep coming :)**

**Thankyou for the support guys! (Cambodia was awesome by the way)**

**- Pockethero**


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